I Am What I Am
by FieryGaze
Summary: The last conversation between Manfred Von Karma and Miles Edgeworth. One-shot.


The halls were dead silent. Not a metaphor Edgeworth was inclined to dwell upon, but it was the only cliché that sprang to mind. Silent, pristine, and utterly unthreatening.

_Well, what were you expecting, a medieval dungeon? _He goaded himself, making an effort to lift his head and look around. The walls were pale white and unadorned, curving into a grey tiled floor. They made no effort to dress the place up, nor to make it more intimidating. It simply existed, for the sole purpose it was meant to exist.

Well, perhaps it wasn't _dead _silent. Footsteps slapping on the tiles were the only noises to break the calm. Edgeworth's own, and the clopping high heels of the woman that was leading him. For a moment he wondered to himself, _Why high heels? It's not as if anyone in this place cares what you wear. You could show up in army boots and it would all be the same to them._

His thoughts were wandering. He wrote it off to nerves, taking a slow breath and following the woman to a room, one among many along the corridor. The door was noticeably thick, and there was an electronic keypad mounted on the wall next to it.

The woman stopped in front of the door, the hoof-like footsteps coming to a halt, then carefully keyed in a code. The door unlocked with an audible click.

"Five minutes," she intoned, then stepped back. Edgeworth nodded. Under normal circumstances he might have preferred longer, but he was not even sure what he was doing here. Even these five minutes were not strictly legal, stolen rather underhandedly by way of a few favours Edgeworth had stored up over the years. He hesitated briefly in the doorway. It wasn't like him to do things so impulsively. But against his better judgement and the logic that was grumbling at the back of his skull, Edgeworth opened the door and stepped inside.

There was only one man inside the room, dressed in the trademark orange prison jumpsuit. He looked up stonily as Edgeworth entered, and as he recognized his visitor, his expression did not change. Edgeworth knew the man all too well, though at this point, it was difficult to know what to think about him.

"Come back to see me one last time, boy?" Manfred Von Karma asked. He bared his teeth, but rather than giving off ferocity, it only made him look like a sad cornered animal that knew its time was up. "And why is that? Revenge? Do you come to mock me?"

Edgeworth said nothing. He stared into the face of the man that had completely destroyed his life, then built it up again, only in preparation to take it to the ground once more. Hatred, that was certainly one thing he felt for the man. Hatred, disgust, anger. Perhaps even pity It was a considerable effort to keep it off his face.

Von Karma raised an eyebrow. "But you aren't really the mocking type, are you? Not when it matters. A victory's a victory, no need to go any further with it. I like to think I taught you that."

"You taught me nothing," Edgeworth shot, surprised at how husky his voice sounded.

"I'd hardly say _that_," Von Karma said, unperturbed. "I took you to greatness, boy, whatever my motives may have been. It was a peculiar thing, that's for sure. You sure dropped your father's old teachings pretty fast when I took you on. If only Gregory could have seen you in your prosecuting prime! I imagine he would have turned in his grave." He laughed gratingly.

"You have no right to mention him!" Edgeworth hissed, stepping forward. "Have you no respect for the dead? You're the one who _killed _him."

"As if I could forget," Von Karma snarled. "And to think that… that… complete simpleton of a defence lawyer was the one who figured it out. Aagh!"

Such an expression of hate twisted across his features that Edgeworth was almost taken aback. For so many years, Prosecutor Von Karma had been his superior. It was difficultly to call their relationship anything more than a professional partnership, but Edgeworth had admired Von Karma. He'd been almost like a father figure, albeit a very strict and distant one. Even now, with the evidence spread out in front of him, Edgeworth could not fully comprehend the demon that had been lurking beneath Von Karma's façade the entire time.

It was if this Von Karma, the raging beast, was an entirely different person than the famed prosecutor Edgeworth had always known. How happy he had been, when Von Karma had agreed to mentor him! It was like he'd finally found a replacement for everything he'd lost in his father. Someone to show him the way, to support him in the absence of a father... and having this chance thrown back in his face, completely inverted… Von Karma was the one who killed his father! Losing both of them was almost too much to bear. Edgeworth literally felt faint just thinking about it; it was like he was sitting on that cold elevator floor again, the air growing thinner and thinner…

Von Karma pounded the bed in his cell uselessly, no doubt reliving the moment when his perfect record had been stripped away. With a shuddering sigh, Von Karma turned his knifepoint gaze back to Edgeworth. "Well. Why _are_ you here?"

Edgeworth stared back. He still did not know the answer to that question. Seeing Von Karma, lurking here in his cell a defeated animal, had not in any way changed the way Edgeworth was feeling. If anything, this only made it worse, that creeping tearing void as if he'd lost something dear to him, and yet all he could muster for this criminal was a deep loathing.

Edgeworth shook his head, struggling to keep his voice even as he voiced his next question. "Answer me this, then. Why?"

"Why? _Why?_ Do you truly need to ask?" A trace of madness jolted through his features again. "That man, that Gregory Edgeworth! It was all this fault, that's where it all went wrong. My perfect record-"

"And you killed him because of your _record_?" Edgeworth demanded. "Was that truly the only reason? Was that _it_?"

"Yes! Why not? He deserved to die for what he did," Von Karma's eyes flashed. "And you. His son. It gave me joy to see you so turned from his ways, so easily swayed from his path. I may not have gotten you convicted, but you know as well as I do that your career will never recover from this!" He gave a bark of maddened laughter. "At least I take some part of you down with me, eh?"

Edgeworth closed his eyes, fighting tears. His five minutes were almost up. Whatever he was searching for, it was not here.

"I thought I knew you," Edgeworth began hesitantly. "Clearly, I was mistaken. The man I knew-no, the man I deluded myself into believing existed-he was a master, a person worthy of respect. He could be trusted. That was never you. I was a fool to think so."

"I'm glad you finally realize that," Von Karma chuckled. "So long, boy. I'll be sure to say hello to your daddy for you when we meet in the afterlife."

The woman tapped on the door. Time's up. Edgeworth turned, not intending to say anything more, but he couldn't resist one last question. "Has Franziska come to see you yet?"

This finally seemed to put a dent in Von Karma, and he looked up at Edgeworth stonily. "No. She knows defeat when she sees it. There's nothing to say goodbye to but an empty husk of a Prosecuter, hmm?"

"Yes… I agree completely," Edgeworth decided, closing the door behind him. Von Karma was surprised to find that, despite the hate that he had been building inside for this boy ever since he'd laid eyes on him, he was almost sad to see him go.

He wrote it off to nerves and relaxed back into his bed.


End file.
